


On Edge

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: Experimental [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, Anal Play, D/s dynamic, Dean cums on Baby, Edging, F/M, Fanfiction, Hand Job, Knife Play, NSFW, One-Shot, SPN - Freeform, Sins of the 600, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, Teasing, Top!Reader, asexual!Reader, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 09:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: You find Dean in the garage, washing the Impala wearing only a t-shirt and a ridiculous pair of cutoff jean shorts. Ridiculously hot that is. You take advantage.





	On Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@wonderfulwinchestersmut](https://wonderfulwinchestersmut.tumblr.com/)’s Sins of the 600 Challenge. Prompts were Edging and Impala/Car. It can be read as a stand-alone one-shot, but is also kind of a continuation of my story [Spring Cleaning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582556). However you want to see it, it’s pure smut. Mind the tags. I apologize for nothing.

Having finished up with the bedrooms, you went looking for Dean. You found him in the garage, dressed in a ratty old t-shirt, sneakers, and a pair of cut off denim booty shorts. He was soaked from washing his beloved car, the wet fabric of the t-shirt clinging to his torso as he bent over the car’s hood, running a soapy sponge over the windshield. The radio in the car was blasting classic rock music and you snickered as you watched Dean rock his hips to the beat.

Taking a chance, you came up behind Dean and smacked his ass as hard as you could. Instead of him coming around swinging, he yelped in shock, his hand slipped in the soap suds on the hood and he sprawled over the car.

“What the hell, Y/N?!” He shouted indignantly over the music. 

You leaned in through the open driver’s side door and turned the volume down. By the time you came back around, he was facing you, brandishing the soapy sponge.

“You scared the crap outta me! I’ma get you back for that!” He growled menacingly, but you only smiled sweetly back at him, stepping in close and placing your hands on his chest, the wet fabric cool against your palms.

“Oh, will you now?” Your voice was anything but sweet and the wicked gleam in your eyes had Dean sucking in a sharp breath. 

“Uhm, well, I-” he stammered before you cut him off.

“I think I’m only getting started,” you purred as one hand found its way to Dean’s growing erection, palming him through the shorts. Walking him around to the front of the car, you leaned him back against the hood, your hands making their way to his ass. Everything about his body language told you he wanted to kiss you so badly at that moment, but you just smiled up at him while you teased his ass with your hands. 

When his hands came up to caress your body, following his instincts, you grasped his wrists gently and moved them back to rest on the hood of the Impala, prodding Dean to lean back slightly. His green eyes were full of anticipation, following your movements as you let your hands wander up over his shoulders and down his chest and abdomen, returning to tease his cock through the fabric of the shorts.

With your free hand, you popped the button open, lightly raking your nails along the waistband of the shorts, to the sound of his gasps. The sight of his abdominal muscles tightening at your touch thrilled you and you squeezed his cock through the wet denim.

Your eyes on your hands, you frowned in mock indignation. “Well, these are going to be just impossible to get off you,” you lamented, then let yourself smile as you looked up into his eyes. “I know just what to do!” You trilled, as you raised your leg, placing your booted foot next to his hip. Drawing the knife you always carried with you, you watched his face closely. When he voiced no objection, you lowered your foot back down, while raising the knife to rest lightly in the hollow of his throat.

Dean’s breaths were coming in quick shallow gasps, his eyes on yours, the green almost completely swallowed up by his lust-blown pupils. His sounds, and his body language, had you almost vibrating with excitement.

You shifted your grip on the knife to an underhand hold, letting it slip beneath the wet cotton of his t-shirt. In one quick move, you sliced the fabric open from neck to hem. Pushing it off his shoulders, you left it to pool around his wrists while you scraped the blade over his chest, raising goosebumps on his freckled skin. His nipples pebbled in the cool air of the garage, and you pricked each one with the tip of the blade, before moving it down to the waist of his shorts. 

Slipping it under the fabric, just below his hipbone, you worked the razor-sharp blade through the denim, slicing one side open. Leaving it like that, still covering his cock, for now, you let your hand slide over his hip and back to caress his ass cheek. He hummed with pleasure when your fingers slid along the crack of his ass, the warmth of your hand on his cool skin feeling like electricity.

Dean was leaning most of his weight on his hands by now, supporting his body on the hood of his car while he let you do whatever you wanted to his body. After last time, he knew it would feel good, and he trusted you with his life. Without hesitation, he relaxed into your touch, allowing himself to just enjoy the sensations.

You watched Dean’s face, his lips slightly parted on the quick gasping breaths; his eyes half-closed in pleasure. You slipped the blade under the fabric on the other side, and sliced the shorts open, the front panel falling down to reveal his fully hard cock. You pushed the wet fabric down, letting the remnants of the shorts fall to the floor between Dean’s legs, while you stepped in closer. One hand wrapped around his cock, while you returned the knife to its sheath in your boot. 

Not wanting him to finish too quickly, you only gave him a couple of slow strokes, before prodding him to move. You had him turn around, hands on the hood of his car, legs spread wide. For a moment, you just admired his body, open and willing, waiting for whatever you wanted to do to him. It gave you goosebumps.

Placing your hands on his hips, you let your hands move in firm, gentle motions, massaging his ass cheeks, teasing them, spreading him open and letting your fingers brush over his puckered muscle. With each movement, you studied his body, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed, what made him arch his back, press into your touch, or tense in apprehension.

Dean grunted in disappointment when your hands left his skin, and you grinned at the sound while you pulled the small bottle of lube from your pocket, squeezing out a liberal amount into your palm. You stuck the bottle back into your pocket before spreading the slick substance over both of your hands. 

“Dean, I want you to lean forward, rest your cheek on the car and use your hands to spread your cheeks for me,” you told him calmly and he complied immediately. You slipped your slicked up fingers down along his crack, stopping to massage his anus briefly before moving further down. When you found his prostate and started massaging it in small circles, Dean’s hips stuttered forward and he let out a grunt. You kept up the small motions with that hand while the other slid to his tightly puckered muscle, mimicking the motions. Small tight circles around the sphincter muscle, coaxing Dean to relax until you were able to slip one finger into him.

The moan that ripped from Dean when his prostate was suddenly stimulated from both directions at once was pornographic and it flooded you with endorphins. Keeping up a steady rhythm, you slowly thrust the one finger in and out, each time dragging over his most sensitive spot. When you added a second finger, Dean grunted at the slight discomfort, but he adjusted quickly, arching his back and trying to thrust onto your fingers.

When you moved your hand to roll his balls between your fingers, while your thumb kept up the massage of his prostate, Dean actually whimpered.

“Uhhh...God...Y/N...it feels so good...please…,” his voice raspy with pleasure, he begged, making you feel absolutely amazing. You slowed your thrusts, not wanting him to come just yet and he moaned in disappointment.

Stopping your prostate massage with one hand, you kept thrusting your fingers into him at a slow steady pace, winding him tighter with each thrust. With your free hand, you grasped the base of his cock, squeezing with thumb and index finger. Dean let out a short, sharp grunt at the feeling, but was too preoccupied to voice any objection. With your one small action, you had effectively blocked his ability to orgasm until you allowed it. 

As you kept up a steady rhythm, your fingers thrusting into Dean’s ass inexorably, his hands came up to rest on the hood on either side of his head, supporting his body and giving him leverage to thrust his hips back against your fingers. His head came up, his back arched, and he panted, whimpering, chasing his release.

Carefully, you added a third finger inside him, to a series of short sharp grunts from Dean. He stilled while you moved your three fingers slowly in and out, letting him adjust to the change. It only took moments before he was arching his back, his hips thrusting back against you.

“More, please,” he choked out, his hands clasped and his forehead resting on his arms. You grinned wickedly as you increased the pace. His panting breaths mingled with grunts and whimpers as he chased a release he would never reach without your permission. His body was covered with a light sheen of sweat, droplets rolling down his back to pool in the dip where his back arched. 

Taking pity on him, you gave his cock another squeeze, releasing the pressure. He cried out at the sensation.

“Ah! Fuck! Y/N! Please!” His voice desperate, echoing his body language. His muscles tense, he was all but vibrating from the need to come.

“It’s ok, Dean. Come for me,” you coaxed him, putting just the slightest more pressure on his prostate and increasing the speed of your thrusts.

Dean grunted in time with your thrusts, his hips stuttering as he tried to both thrust back against your fingers, and forward where instinct led him, at the same time. With a drawn-out groan, he came hard, his muscles clenching on your fingers as he shot his load onto the shiny black hood of his car.

You carefully withdrew your fingers from Dean, finding a relatively clean rag to wipe your hands on before standing up and leaning against him, your hands soothingly rubbing his sides and shoulders as he regained his breath.

"Holy fuck, Y/N. You’re amazing!” His breathy praise had you chuckling on top of him. 

“Oh, Dean, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you replied, your voice holding both promise and challenge.


End file.
